I mostly stay in the flat. It's a tiny studio flat, meant only for one person, so I'm feeling a little claustrophobic... but as Wes hasn't gotten paid yet we've basically broke, and although living in Korea is in general very cheap (we can both eat out for about a fiver altogether!) coffee is the same price as back home (two cups of mediocre coffee is also a fiver). So I study in cafes sometimes, but mostly I stay home.
Private tutoring, part 1. When I was in a cafe one day last week, just minding my own business, studying Korean, this Korean woman walks up to me and sits down opposite me.
"I'm really sorry to disturb you," she says in accented English. "But can I ask you a few questions?"
"Sure," I say, unsuspecting. The woman is called Keun Hae, she's pregnant, and she wants an English tutor. I looked like a likely target, so she gathered her courage and approached me to ask for lessons. At first I'm really surprised -- surely there is more effort involved in finding students than this? -- but when I get over my initial shock I readily agree. We set up a time for the first lesson for the following Monday, and that, ladies and gents, is the story of how I got my first student in Korea.
Suwon Language Exchange. That same evening, I'm set to go to Suwon to partake in a Korean-English language exchange. Basically, a bunch of Koreans wishing to practice their English, and a bunch of foreigners wishing to practice Korean show up to a western bar in Suwon. Here, the hosts pair us up, and we have free talk for one hour in English, and one hour in Korean. Everyone I speak to in Korean commends me on my Korean. This is due to two things: 1) Koreans don't expect foreigners to speak to Korean, and are super encouraging as a result, and 2) I know loads of grammar, so what little I can actually say is normally correct, so it sounds like I can speak a lot of Korean... when in reality I have maybe ten or twenty things I can say ("I am from Sweden", "I went to university in the UK", "we came to Korea together", "the weather is cold today", "I like Korean food", and "how do I get to X place?").
At the language exchange I could buy western drinks at western prices... oh, how cheated I feel, buying a £4 cocktail, after buying a bottle of soju (19%, and tasty to boot) for 50p! I was told my cocktail (called 'Electric Banana') was pretty strong, and asked if that was okay. I was surprised, because surely in a country where the go-to drink is 19%, people wouldn't normally be concerned about how strong a cocktail is? Was this drink going to be explosively burn-my-insides-with-hellish-fire strong?
"That's okay," I said. I'd ordered the drink, I wasn't about to wuss out.
"You're from Sweden, right?" said the person next to me. "I hear people in cold places like strong drinks."
"Sure. Yes." I said, even though I normally like my cocktails on the fruity, girly side of the spectrum. I'm a tough Swedish woman, and I have to represent! I just hope my large body mass and constitution will somehow allow me to make up for the fact that actually... I'm a lightweight.
Yoon Do Hyun Band. So in the end, I receive my Electric Banana and take it to the table where I'm chillaxing with three Korean computer science students. Only one of them actually speak English, so he ended up spending the majority of the night translating between our attempts at communication. Oh well... among these attempts were the question "Do you like K-pop? Which singer do you like?"
"Ah... Super Junior?" I begin. Super Junior should be safe. I'm blanking on what songs they've made right at this second, but I've been told all of Korea adores them, so it should be safe. Then I compose myself and continue with a couple of bands that I actually know and like. "I also like Yoon Do Hyun Band and Buga Kingz."
"Yoon Do Hyun Band!" exclaims the guy who speaks the least English. Turns out that's one of his favorite bands, and he proceeds to quiz me excitedly on which is my favourite song. I inform him that it is naneun nabi ("I am a butterfly"), because it is my favourite... and also the only song I can remember the title of at this precise moment. I'm such a Korea fail, haha.
"You should sing it," I prompted him. He was a vocalist for a band, but apparently too shy to sing at the language exchange. He could sing it in a noraebang, but not in a bar, not even when the guy who did speak English tried to prompt him with drinks.
"I have never been to a noraebang," I offered. Noraebang (노래방) just means "song room", or karaoke. "We should go next time!"
The boys seemed receptive to this idea, so I think I shall pursue it further. Oh yeah, maybe soon I'll get to go out and sing and drink with men I barely know whose language I can't speak!
No comments:
Post a Comment